


By Firelight

by imaginary_golux



Series: October Ficlet Challenge [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, First Kiss, Fluff, HP: EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hot Chocolate, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 13:17:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12255150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_golux/pseuds/imaginary_golux
Summary: Prompt 2: Sharing a mug of cocoaHarry has a very pleasant evening.Prompt and beta by my Best Beloved, Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw.





	By Firelight

Harry collapses onto the squashiest of the couches in the Gryffindor common room - the one which is left to the Eighth Years by general agreement - and stares dazedly into the fire. It’s not that he doesn’t _want_ to master the Animagus transformation, it’s just that it’s taking an awful lot of practice, and he’s also trying to study for his NEWTs, and he’s been woken up with screaming nightmares - either his or Ron’s or Neville’s - the last eight nights running.

Thank _Merlin_ it’s nearly the Christmas holidays.

“Hey,” someone says quietly, and Harry turns his gaze from the fire to see Neville standing beside the couch, two steaming mugs in his hands. “Mind if I join you?”

“Please do,” Harry says gratefully, and Neville sinks down next to him - the couch sags even further - and hands Harry a mug. It’s full of hot cocoa, the smell rising up to surround them both, and Harry leans back into the couch’s embrace, shoulder against Neville’s, and curls his hands around the mug and sighs in pleasure.

“Thanks, Nev,” he says at last, and takes a sip. It’s rich and thick and there’s cinnamon in there, and cream - Harry can’t quite suppress a little moan of pleasure.

“Looked like you could use it,” Neville says easily. “Sorry about last night.”

“Not your fault,” Harry says at once. Neville had woken screaming from a nightmare about the war, about the long guerilla battle against the Carrows in the halls of Hogwarts, and it had taken the better part of an hour for him to stop hyperventilating. Harry sat up with him the whole time. Neville has done the same for him, after all, most recently three nights ago when Harry woke up _utterly convinced_ that he had failed to find every Horcrux and Voldemort would be back again.

“Still,” Neville says. “Thanks.”

“Welcome,” Harry says, and he’s so _very_ tired - he lets his head fall sideways onto Neville’s shoulder. Neville is nearly six inches taller than he is, these days, and his shoulders are so _very_ broad - he’s taken up broadsword training from a very pleased Sir Cadogan, assisted by one of the animated suits of armor - Neville looks like he could hold up the world. Surely he can let Harry rest against him for a little while.

Neville shifts, slowly, until he’s got his arm wrapped around Harry’s shoulders and Harry is snuggled up against his side, both of them sipping slowly at their mugs of cocoa - bless the Ever-Warm charm the house elves use on the mugs - and staring into the fire.

Neville takes Harry’s mug when it’s finally empty and makes a long arm to put them both down on a mostly-empty side table, then settles back again, sighing comfortably like he doesn’t intend to move for the rest of the evening. Harry tilts his head back to look up at his friend, and grins a little at the smudge of chocolate on Neville’s lip.

“What?” Neville asks, smiling back at him. “Something on my face?”

“Yeah,” Harry says, and it seems so simple - so very _right_ \- to just lean up, just a little, lean into Neville’s easy strength and kiss the cocoa smudge away. Neville makes a soft huffing noise, surprise and delight and wonder, and tilts his head, and then they are kissing properly, warm and easy and chocolate-flavored, slow and soft and sweet. It’s nothing like kissing Cho, or Ginny, or even the alcohol-fueled snog Harry shared with Seamus on a particularly ridiculous night in the dorms. There’s no urgency or haste to it, just a sort of quiet inevitability and peace.

“Hey,” Neville says softly when they finally break the kiss to pull apart a few inches.

“Hey,” Harry says, smiling. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Neville agrees, and Harry settles down against Neville’s shoulder again, warm and comfortable and utterly content, and they watch the fire burn down in joyful silence.

**Author's Note:**

> So Best Beloved and I are doing an October ficlet challenge. We each generated a list of pairings we'd be willing to write and a list of prompts we wanted the other person to write, and then traded prompts lists without knowing what the other person's pairing lists were. We'll be doing a ficlet each every day in October. Should be fun!
> 
> I am, as ever, imaginarygolux on tumblr.


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